You know how we can be about things which sparkle and shine. We imagine they will put back something of what has been lost.

You were so near death that ghosts crowded around you, weeping silver tears, waiting for you with such smiles. You humans, you know, whoever built you sewed irony into your sinews.

The worst thing in the world is having to go back to the dark you shook off.

And it's the wonders I'm after, even if I have to bleed for them.

I am a practical girl, and a life is only so long. It should be spent in as much peace and good eating and good reading as possible and no undue excitement. That is all I am after.

He tried to reconstruct the story in his mind, but it kept getting confused, bleeding into itself like watercolors.

... but as has been said, September read often, and liked it best when words did not pretend to be simple, but put on their full armor and rode out with colors flying.